Chernevog (41 page)

“
That,
”
Draga said,
“
is magic.
”

“
A straw actually does as well,
”
Eveshka said, with Pyetr'
s
stubborn pragmatism: her mother was pushing her, undermining
her
way of doing things, and a straw was better, not least because it did not tempt one to throw wishes about carelessly.

“
Wishes just don't matter. That's the thing, dear, you don't have
to be that careful. If you make a mistake you can retrieve it.
”

“
Don't eavesdrop, mama!
”

“
You don't want me to know certain things?
”

“
I'm not your echo, mama, and I like my privacy, thank you.

And what happens if you do make a mistake? What happens if you don't understand what else you're wishing?
”

“
That part is the same. There are consequences. Only some of them happen here, in the natural world.
”

“
Can magic find them out beforehand? Reliably?
”

“
Some of them.
”

“
Then it's damned
stupid,
mama, doing anything of the sort.
”

“
Shhh. You raise a rainstorm. Do you know every leaf that falls? The law is that leaves will fall. Which leaf is meaningless to know. What you care about is that the rain come—and stop in due course. The difference is scope, dear.
”

“
My husband is no leaf, mama!
”

“
Neither is that baby.
”

“
I don't know that I want a baby! I don't know I want one at all
”

“
The one you don't want, dear, is the one you and Kavi might have had. Or the one you and Sasha might have had.
This
one is manageable. But not, considering your enemies, the way your father managed you.
”
Draga shook ash from her hand. That was
all that remained of the ember.
“
Does it matter in the magical world that a bit of wood burned? No. And yes—if it makes you understand what's essential, it's of extreme consequence there and here. There's no reason by which that bit of wood should have that value. But it may.
”

“
The value isn't in the wood,
”
Eveshka said doggedly,
“
the answer isn't in the smoke.
”

‘‘That's Malenkova, did you know that? She used to say that.
”

She had thought it was her father. She had thought so many t
h
ings were only his.

Draga said,
“
The value of a piece of wood, dear, is wherever a sorcerer assigns it. That's the important thing. You can vest a
value
in
a thing
...
put a spell on it, if you like. You command a thing to be of a certain value. Or state.
”

The fire was
out.
There was no light. Suddenly it burned again, as if nothing had happened.

“
That wasn't a trick,
”
Draga said.
“
It happened. Do you believe me?
”

“
If you can do it you can make me believe you did it, don't you? So it makes no difference. I'll grant you did.
Why
did you do it?
”

“
You do sound like your father. I did it because I wanted. Because I can do it.
”

“
Well, why bother with fires? Wish yourself tsarina of Kyev. Wish yourself a dozen handsome men to wait o
n you and rings on all fingers
...
”

“
I could do that.
”

“
I prefer my husband.
”

“
I've had one, thank you.
”
Draga dusted her hands one against the other, wiped the soot off with a towel.
“
And of course you're right, nothing's that easy. My little business with the fire was showy—but a straw is better, with a little wish in help it, and ten handsome servants might be nice, but then, I've help when I need it.
”

“
What help?
”

“
Oh, him or her, whatever suits.
”

“
A shapeshifter?
”
Eveshka was appalled.

“
Dear, you
won't
have a dvorovoi or a leshy anywhere near you if you do magic. They don't like demands on them. A shapeshifter's one of the most selfless creatures you'll deal with if you're careful what you let it be. You have to be very stern with it. And you have to be aware there are creatures that aren't at all selfless, and they'd very happily take any situation and turn it to their advantage. You have to learn your way in magic— and the wizard who's very likely to find serious trouble, my dear, is the one who's doing magic without knowing what he's borrowing from, because a good many of your silly, childish spells are, truly, borrowing from something outside the natural.
”

A rusalka had no trouble understanding that: Eveshka bit her lip, clenched her hands and tried not to remember that feeling, that flood of life into death—

“
A wizard-child does it—and there are always creatures ready to help, unless he's guarded.
”

“
I knew one that wasn't guarded! He had no help. And
he's
not a sorcerer.
”

“
Sasha's very unusual. But Sasha burned his parents to death. Did you know that?
”

“
He told me.
”

“
So he did make a mistake. It scared him out of doing magic at all until your father got his hands on him. He's very innocent. His
wish was not to do harm. And the strength of the innocent in magic is like the strength of children—naive and terribly dangerous.
”

“
How do you know about him?
”

“
I have my sources. I even know what wanted him. It still does. And of course he'd be very foolish to deal with it. You never deal with the one that wants you most. You deal with Something just a bit stronger—and you have to be very stubborn. You can smother a gift the way your young friend did; but it's very unusual for a child to do the right thing. Usually they don't. Horn in an ordinary situation, they can do very dangerous things—and very many fall right into the magical world and become—the god knows what. If a child is being attacked—
”
Her mother caught her hands in hers and held them so tightly the bones ground together, pain she opened her mouth to protest, but her mother said,
“
As you were attacked, dear. Kavi wanted you dead and you wouldn't die. You fought back as hard as
a wizard could fight, you fought him by wanting your life so much
...
so much
...
you pulled at everything in sight, like someone drowning—
”

“
I did drown, mama!
”
The pain was nothing. The image scared her. It reminded her—

“
You can drown in magic or you can strike out and swim, clear, you don't have to draw on the natural world. There is a place to get everything your wizardry can use—the right way. It was your fathers damnable teaching that made you a killer. You wouldn't do what was reasonable, no, you followed your father and you ended up Kavi's creature—say what you will, Kavi was using you; Kavi's wishes have been, even while he was sleeping, and he'll go on using you, against everything you want for yourself, unless you listen to different advice.
”

Listening to anyone's advice frightened her. There had been so many lies.

“
Kavi has your husband in his hands,
”
Draga said, and squeezed hard, while cold panic swept over her.
“
Don't wish! Listen! Sasha's run, he's had to, he's completely out of his element. He can't help your husband at all, he's in danger himself, and there's precious little he can appeal to, unless he does resort to magic—alone, untaught, and with your father's ideas to cripple him. I can't reach him. You're the one who has a chance, but you've got to listen to me now, daughter, you've got to believe for once in your life someone is telling you the truth.
”

Something had happened, Pyetr had no idea what, except it meant they were ahorse again, riding in the dark—he had opened his eyes by firelight with the side of his face stinging and Chernevog holding him painfully by the arm, saying,
“
Get up, get up, pack up. Move, damn you!
”

He still had a wobbly, hollow feeling from that sudden waking, he still had no idea what had put fear on Chernevog's face or what hour of the night it was, but a dream kept coming back to him that Sasha had called his name in profound distress, just before that waking; and he doubted Chernevog would tell him anything but lies.

But Chernevog said, as they rode,
”
Your friend's found something, or something's found him.
”

He wanted to know, dammit, he could not help wondering, and Chernevog said, holding to him,

“
He's upstream from us. He went back toward the house and doubled back east and north following the river—looking for Eveshka, I'm sure: it's what he hopes to do I can't figure—or how much he understands of anything he's doing.
”

That was a question. Like ghosts, it came at him with fewer distractions in the dark. Pyetr bit the sore spot on his lip and tried to tell himself he had not felt Sasha wanting him, nothing was wrong, that Chernevog was worried was the best thing in the world, and if Chernevog wanted him to make guesses what another wizard would do, Chernevog had to be desperate.

“
You felt it,
”
Chernevog said.
“
You know he's in trouble.
”

“
I don't know that,
”
he retorted,
“
but if you are, that does me good, Snake.
”

Chernevog made him think of shapeshifters then, and his thoughts jumped to Uulamets' likeness, the creature trying to lead him—

“
Where?
”

—east. To the river
...

“
My old servant,
”
Chernevog said.
“
But slippery. Damned slippery.
”

He remembered Sasha saying—the vodyanoi had corrupted Chernevog, not the other way around.

“
Corrupted me?
”
Chernevog asked, and shifted his seat as if that idea had truly startled him.
“
Corrupted
me,
god, no!
”

Pyetr thought, And you aren't, Snake?

Chernevog said nothing for a moment, and shifted his hands to Pyetr's shoulders, both, too fr
iendly for Pyetr's liking. Cher
nevog's presence was very quiet for a moment—enough to make a man's skin crawl, and Chernevog:

“
Be still.
”

“
Be still, hell.
”
He gave a violent shrug, remembered Vojvoda for no reason, remembered 'Veshka, remembered the river and Babi and Sasha and planting the garden, all so rapidly he knew he was not recalling these things for his own reasons. He grew alarmed—and got the notion—while it was weaving its way through his thoughts he realized it was not his either—that Sasha's safety might rely on his willing cooperation.

That's a damned lie, he thought, but he could not make himself absolutely sure of that. He thought—if it were true—

If it were true—

Chernevog said:
“
If Sasha thinks the vodyanoi's corrupted
me,
then he's mistaken what he's dealing with. He's terribly, dangerously wrong. And so might Eveshka be. You don't deal with a creature like Hwiuur. You don't.
”

He did not understand, except that no one in his right mind would trust the vodyanoi for anything. He thought, Sasha's not a fool.

“
Sasha's not wholly a fool. But Hwiuur's a great liar. He'll try to frighten you. And if you're going to deal with magic, Pyetr Ilyitch, you don't deal with something like him—god, you don't.
”
He put one hand on Pyetr's back, said, quietly, compelling his attention,
“
Forget about my corruption. It has nothing to do with anything. I'm wanting him to hear you, right now, for whatever you want to tell him, Pyetr Ilyitch.
”